


The Bell Chime

by ikkiM



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-05-03 16:20:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5298023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikkiM/pseuds/ikkiM





	The Bell Chime

**Author's Note:**

  * For [QuizzicalQuinnia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuizzicalQuinnia/gifts).



Time did not pass between his visits. Brienne couldn’t say what she had done, where she had been, how long it had been since she last saw him. She would simply find herself behind the desk of the Lodge, looking at his freshly inked name in the guest register.

_Jaime Lannister._

His signature had changed since the first time he had stayed at the Lodge. That time, when he had come with his sister, it had been all bold letters, swoops, and swirls. The second time he’d come, that time alone, he’d pressed the pen so hard into the ledger than it had made a small tear in the paper in the curve of his “L.”

The third time, after the loss of his hand, the writing was completely different, awkward and cramped, at first almost illegible. That had improved. Her fingers hovered above his name, wanting to run across the letters, to feel the indentations on the page. She looked at the bell fastened to the wall beside the desk. She could almost hear its somber tone although it remained untouched. Her eyes traveled to the clock above it. He’d be down in one more minute. It was always that way. She strained to hear his steps on the carpeted stairs.

There he was, his once golden hair now as silver as his beard, both longer than the last time. His face broke into a smile as he approached her. “Brienne.”

She felt an unfamiliar vitality in the air around her. She returned his smile. “Jaime.”

He approached the desk.

She waved her hand in his direction and asked the question as always. “Can I help you, Sir?” She knew her lines.

“I can’t sleep in my room,” he smiled as if remembering the first time he'd made the complaint.

She shook her head. “The Lodge is full. Is there something else I can do for you?”

For a moment he hesitated, as if choosing his next words carefully. He touched the small nautical bell. “Do you remember the story of this bell?”

She smiled. Of course she remembered, but she liked it when he told the story. “Why don’t you remind me?”

“Well,” he went on, resting his forearms on the desk, “the bell has been here since Evenfall Lodge opened. The original owner’s stubborn daughter installed it against her father’s wishes, saying it was in honor of the man she loved who was lost at sea. They say she never gave up hope that he would come back to her, and she would ring it once each night, hoping he would hear her calling for him.” He grinned at her and leaned across the desk. “They say she still haunts the Lodge, and sometimes you can hear her ringing the bell, waiting for her true love to take her away.” He cocked his head. “Can you hear it, Brienne?”

The air sparked, and she swore she could hear the bell again, its gentle tone hovering in the silence of the night, for a moment shrouding her in dark memories. She reached out as if to ring it herself and stopped. Instead, she turned to Jaime. “Do you think she’ll rest when he finally comes for her?”

He inhaled softly. “I hope so. Or at least she'll be able to leave this place. If that's what she wants." His eyes traveled over her face but, as always, she could give him no answer. "Can you sit and talk tonight?” he asked.

She glanced around. She hoped they would have hours together before sunrise. She nodded.

He arranged himself in one of the armchairs near the fire.

She spoke first. “How have you been?”

He ran his hand through his beard. He patted his stomach. “More meat on my ribs, more gray in my hair, that’s all. The stump’s still the same. Come here.” He signaled to the chair beside him.

She settled beside him so lightly the cushion didn’t even sink. “You look well.”

He laughed, then his eyes followed the soft lines of her face. “You know you look exactly the same, Brienne. Exactly the same as the first time I saw you. How long has it been now? Fifteen years? Twenty?”

She shrugged. “I do not know.”

He smiled again. “I do. This is our twenty-second anniversary, Brienne. To the day.”

She didn’t like to talk of time, of how long it had been. That had no meaning for her. She changed the subject. “Tell me what has happened since we last met. How is Tommen? Myrcella?”

As he began to talk, she heard the clacking steps of another guest. Jaime ignored the woman’s odd glance at him as he talked of his children, and soon to be grandchild. She remembered their first night. His sister had found the room lacking, or she had simply been spoiling for a fight. Jaime had ended up in the foyer of the lodge, looking for a place to sleep. Brienne remembered her surprise when he had spoken to her. She’d shown him where to find a blanket and guided him to a chair here, by the fire. He hadn’t wanted to be alone. He’d wanted to talk. She’d stayed with him that night. She hadn’t understood why then. She did now. These hours with Jaime, they were everything.

He paused and looked straight at her before speaking. “I worry every time that you won’t be here.”

She stared into the fire before meeting his eyes. “I’ll be here as long as I’m able.”

The muscle in his cheek twitched. “You say that as if the choice isn’t yours.”

She returned her gaze to the fire and listened for the knell of the bell.

He sat forward in his chair to draw her attention. She turned back to him.

He started to speak, but she interrupted. “Jaime, I haven’t anywhere else to go.”

He reached forward as if to take her hand, but he stopped.

She smiled. “Tell me more. How is the library? Your latest book?”

He spoke once again, and she became lost in his voice. She wanted only to hear that voice, let him share his life with her. It was harder when he asked about her. She thought of the long-ago scar on her cheek, remembering how she’d told him that story, how his fist had clinched. She’d had to assure him it was all right. It no longer caused her any pain. It hadn’t for a very long time. Nothing did except the fear that his name would cease to appear in the ledger.

He stopped speaking now, smiling fondly and leaning his head against the back of the chair as he stared at her. Her lips curved into a returning small smile as he blinked, his eyes growing heavy. She watched him for the rest of the night as he slept by the fire. As the sunrise threatened to end their time, she too closed her eyes.

* * *

Brienne once again found herself behind the desk, but there was something different this time. She looked at the register. His name was still there, the very same as it had been the night before. That was wrong. They always shared one night together, just the one night, never a second.

She heard whispering behind her. The porter was comforting the chambermaid whose eyes were rimmed in red. The day manager’s tones were grim as he spoke to the desk clerk. She wanted to speak to them, ask them what was wrong, what had happened. Instead, she turned to look at the clock. Two minutes had passed. She shook her head. That was wrong, too. The day manager finished his instructions to the clerk and walked toward the entrance to speak to the disapproving guest from last night. He shivered as he passed Brienne.

She closed her eyes, trying to focus on the moment, trying to find Jaime. She strained to listen for a footstep on the stair, but there were only the quiet murmurs of the staff and their whispering words of, “sad” and “tragic” and “peaceful.” She heard the strident voice of the guest “…talking to himself. I thought everything was _fine_ …” followed by the soothing tones of the day manager. She felt a foreign warmth flood her and opened her eyes.

Jaime stood before her, as golden as he’d been the first time she’d met him, hair no longer silver, his face unlined. Her eyes widened.

He smiled. “Brienne.”

The sound of her name washed through her. “Jaime,” she called out to him. The conversations continued around them.

He chuckled. He held out his hand. “Come here.”

She stared at his palm, longing to touch it. She shook her head. “I can’t. You know I can’t.”

He waggled his fingers at her. “I think you can if you try. If you want to. If you're ready.”

She extended her hand and let her palm hover above his, the way she had so many times before. He reached out with his other arm and pressed her hand between both of his. Her eyes widened in shock. She let her fingers explore those he had lost so long ago. He pulled her closer, his eyes locked on hers. She stepped forward and pressed into him, solid and strong. No goosebumps rose on his skin, there was only warmth. One arm wrapped around her waist.

“Are you sad?” she asked.

A soft bell chimed in the distance. She held her breath, not daring to hope.

He shook his head as he brushed a lock of hair from her brow. Her face tilted to follow his hand, reveling in the feel of him. “I’m finally where I was always meant to be. With you.”

The sound of the bell faded as she pressed her lips to his.


End file.
